At a nearby corner she stepped into a telephone booth, and calling up the hotel, asked to speak to Mr. John Bradley. In a few moments she heard Richard's familiar tones. "This is Grace," she said quickly. "I'm sorry I spoke to you, just now, but I wanted to tell you that some woman telephoned the hotel to-day, and left a warning to the effect that if you did not keep out of Miss Morton's affairs, you would be in serious danger." "How did you know where I was?" Duvall asked. "I saw you leave the hotel, and followed you." "You should not have done so." "But I wanted to give you the message. I thought you ought to know." "I understand that, but I wished my presence here to be unknown to anyone. You made a serious mistake. I only hope that no harm will come of it." "But--how could harm come of it?" "You drove here in one of the hotel's regular cabs, I suppose?" "Yes." "Then the people I am trying to avoid may trace me here, through the driver of that cab." "Oh--Richard--I'm so sorry. Isn't there anything I can do?" "Nothing, now, except to make no further attempt to communicate with me here. Good-by." Grace returned to her hotel, very thoroughly dissatisfied with what she had done. It seemed to her that by trying to warn Richard of possible danger, she might only have brought it upon him. Apparently he had left their hotel, to avoid the very persons who had telephoned the warning message to her. She arrived at the door, got out of the cab in which she had made the journey, and looked about, hoping that the cabman who had driven her uptown might now be at his usual stand. To her delight, she saw that he was. She went up to the man, a slim, keen looking young Irishman, and engaged him in conversation. "Do you remember driving me uptown an hour or so ago?" she asked. "Sure I do, Miss," answered the man, touching his cap. "Then please forget completely where you went, will you?" She handed the man a ten dollar bill. "It is barely possible that someone may try to find out, through you, where I went. Be sure that you give them no information." "They'll get nothing out of me, Miss," the man replied, pocketing the bill with a pleased grin. "And if anybody _does_ try to find out, get their name, if you can, and if not, a description of them." "I'll do my best, Miss." "I am stopping here. My name is Duvall, Mrs. Duvall." "Very good, ma'am. I'll attend to it, ma'am." Grace went up to her room, satisfied that she had remedied her mistake, and began to look through an afternoon paper she had bought. There seemed nothing better to do, during the evening, than to go to the theater. Glancing down the list of attractions, she suddenly saw the name of Ruth Morton, in large letters, billed in a new feature play, _An American Beauty_, opening at the Grand Theater that night. She at once made up her mind to go. Since yesterday, her interest in Miss Morton had perceptibly increased. And in spite of all, Richard _had_ held her hand.